Pivot

identity.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this ever since we sat and talked with Paul Budnitz for a Makin’ Friends with Ryan Miller episode. He talked about stories, and how they are the things we create for ourselves to make sense of our world and while that’s great, at the end of the day, if we put too much stake in these stories and they don’t work out, we’re fucked. It’s a solid point and I’m so curious to know if other people see it that way.

I know that I rely on and spend a lot of time on crafting my identity – who I am, what makes me tick. It helps me align my focus, my time, my path. But I’ve always been ok pivoting when necessary. I’ve pivoted a bunch. And while I’m comfortable with the idea, pivoting is not always a peaceful thing. Because often, when I pivot, I’m making a decision that I’m not __ anymore. I’ve got to ditch that old self and sometimes it hurts the way it hurts to cut ties with an ex-boyfriend. We created identities around those things, around those people, and when they are gone, that iteration of ourself needs to cease in order to move on.

But does it ever really die? In college when I studied anthropology, I was fascinated with the idea of culture change (and still am.) I read a book called “Number Our Days” by Barbara Meyerhoff about a group of older Jewish emigrants and how they tried to hold onto their culture in the face of assimilation. This is my ancestry’s story. And while my story is very different than theirs, cultures don’t die, they evolve, sometimes slowly, sometimes drastically. It’s not a question of if, it’s a question of speed.

I get why Paul is not a fan of stories, why he prefers un-attachment to attachment. It’s a philosophy I flirted with for many years during my martial arts training. But I’ve come to the conclusion that a life worth living is one where we put our entire heart into what we do. Where we commit to the story for the time being. And we accept that we might love and lose…and have to pivot and pivot again.

Beach Hilary

 

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Reflection

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I find reflections to be so powerful.
The ability to see something twice, to double its presence, its impact.

I love the double meaning of the word reflect. Representing a potentially potent moment in the present – seeing more than one instance of oneself or some thing; as well as the act of looking to the past with the perspective that only time brings.

To be honest, I’m never a big fan of myself or my decisions when I look into the past and while I know some people who relish their days of yore, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone here. To me that’s the whole point of reflection. Reflection is not the same as recollection.  Reflection implies an alternate perspective. Reflection, done well = growth.

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Gravel and leaves

leaves

 

I walked over these leaves the other day, car pressed into the gravel driveway. It was the way they both stood out and blended that caught my eye. So I pulled out my phone and kneeled over to take as many pictures of these leaves before I got run over. Days later looking at them closer than I was able to at the time, I love observing the gravel collage – created from a steady stream of cars compacting the many tiny pieces into one solid form. And then there are these leaves – resigned to their fate of decay; becoming part of the gravel collage – helpless but to accept their new designation.

And now I have Car Wheels on a Gravel Road stuck in my head.

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5/5 Days Montreal edition

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Montreal.

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5/5 Day 11

Day 11

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I spent the evening at my friend Adam and Sarah’s house. They are some of the first post-college friends that I made here in Vermont. The first of a new wave of friends who came to Vermont to stay and make it their home. These are the people that make up my Vermont family. I’ve seen them go from dating to married, buy their first home and have their first kid. They lived most of my 20′s with me – a time that looking back feels like an endless iterative process of self-discovery. We tease each other like siblings and finish sentences with just a look. They are the people that are as comforting to me as the rolling green fields that I drive by for the thousandth time, they are the landscape of home.

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5/5 Day 10

Day 10

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Today I went for a walk in my backyard, my beautiful, amazing backyard. I needed to find some space in my brain to process something that’s been nagging me for weeks. Decisions. Not the little, perpetual kind I talked about yesterday. But a big one, one that deals with questions like survival and life meaning. I’m charting my path, a process that I see as a delicate combination between reality and fantasy. You’ve got to consider what’s actually possible and then imbue that with what you want the most. When you figure those two pieces out that’s when the magic happens…

Cue the pixie dust.

 

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5/5 Day 9

Day 9

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If I’m supposed to just spend five minutes writing, I’ve not been following directions. But that’s nothing new. I prefer to do things that don’t involve reading or following directions – that’s the reason that I don’t bake much – too many rules that are actually there for a reason. I prefer rules that are meant to be broken. Flexibility fits me much better.

A while ago I read the book “How We Decide” by Jonah Lehrer (I know, I know, but I enjoyed it;)  he explained that the frontal cortex (or some more accurate scientific name/brain part – I’d look it up – but I only have five minutes to write this – yes – convenient rule following going on here – aka – sleepiness/laziness) does all the work when making decisions. I was struck by the notion of how much time we spend making decisions – or rather – how much time I spend making decisions. With flexibility comes many, many decisions. With structure, a lot less.

I bet I have a proportionately large frontal cortex.  And if it works like this, which I think it does, (cue other interesting neuroscience book The Brain That Changes Itself) I wonder if I embraced structure more – and spent less time deciding – what other part of my brain would be able to work more?!  Yet – I also think that it’s this flexibility that is my strength or at least makes me a good producer and goes hand in hand with a creative mind.

 

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5/5 Day 8

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I’ve been wanting to start a photo project to play with the idea of visual haikus. The idea started literally – 5 photos by 7 photos by 5 photos. But that didn’t seem right. True to American education; that was the definition that I knew a haiku to be. Yet, having read them, and having spent many years studying a Japanese discipline, my instinct told me there was much more to them than that.

So I’ve begun to explore the realm of haiku and it makes perfect sense why I’m drawn to this art. Haikus are minimalist, they focus on images in nature and their power lies in creating tension. Nature + brevity + juxtaposition. yep. that’s my jam.

If anyone (Steve,) can recommend some good reading, please let me know!

 

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5/5 Day 7

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I just started reading the book Quiet: The Power of Introverts by Susan Cain. The topic of introversion, especially how it is handled in our culture, is one that I’m super interested in. Despite my social ways, I’m definitely an introvert. I prefer small gatherings to big ones; nights at home with a movie to nights out at a bar. I’m easily overstimulated, overwhelmed by people and noise, I prefer the quiet woods to a bustling city. My status of introvert has a LOT to do with why I live in Vermont. And I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how Vermont is a state of introverts.

The space in which we surround ourselves, like food, is infinitely nuanced. Cozy or open, angled or curved, bright or dark. From the first time I crossed the border into Vermont, I felt like this was home. I could try and explain why in rational terms, but most attempts to rationalize why you live in Vermont are likely to fail…

I prefer to chalk it up to a feeling. I prefer to live in a place where a feeling can be enough.

 

 

 

 

 

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5/5 Day 6

Day 6

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I love food. To me, food is art, delicious, edible, life sustaining art. And next to photography, it’s my favorite art.

I can always eat – I blame that part on my metabolism, but part on my love of imagining and then realizing a new sensory experience. Infinite combinations of colors, smell, texture and taste rewarded by the upmost primal satisfaction.

 

 

 

 

 

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